


Let Me Stay With You

by lieano



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Childhood Friends, Christmas Party, Happy Ending, Lapdance, M/M, Pole Dancing, Strippers & Strip Clubs, no intercourse or anything though, two lapdances actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 11:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10463994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieano/pseuds/lieano
Summary: "Owain should have known, honestly. He shouldn’t have come. But here he was, standing in front of Cyrkensia Gentleman’s Club. A strip club that, Niles informed them with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, had both male and female dancers. Someone for everyone. Merry Fuckin Christmas."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DorkPatroller1 (dorkpatroller)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkpatroller/gifts).



> I originally wrote this for @dorkpatroller as part of her Christmas gift, but then she told me the Owainigo tag was suffering and she wanted me to upload it so I added about 9k words and now three months after Christmas here we are. I have literally never been to a strip club and I'm sure it shows. And I'm still not great at writing Fire Emblem characters, but I think I'm slowly getting there.
> 
> There are some assumptions made early on about Inigo's career, but hopefully by the end this fic doesn't portray stripping as an undesirable career path. That's like super important to me, so if you are or happen to know someone who works in the field and something in here is inaccurate or damaging please let me know and I'll correct it as best I can. Thank you!
> 
> Oh, and, thank you for reading! If you enjoy it please leave a kudos or a comment, let me know what you think~~

A couple hundred graduation caps spun in the air among the raucous cheering. It almost completely drowned out the band playing the school song. Bodies shuffled among each other, hugging, crying, congratulating. They had done it; they had survived high school and now they were adults.

Owain dodged his fellow classmates, scanning the crowd until he found his target. He grabbed Inigo’s upper arm and the boy yelped as he was yanked backwards out of the crowd. “Whoa! Owain! What?” 

“I need to tell you something!” the brunette said enthusiastically. He was elated, on cloud nine. Every breath he took tasted like achievement and a chance to start something new. He had just turned the page on a new chapter of his life and he wanted the first sentence of it to be the best hook of the century. 

It was a beautiful spring day for a graduation ceremony, so Ylisse High School had rented out the city park. On a large open field known for hosting weddings, they had set up several hundred lawn chairs and a podium and a whole speaker system. The cool breeze had carried everyone through the speeches and the diploma disbursement. Owain found a large tree on the perimeter of the field that seemed to be far out of anyone’s care and chose that as the perfect scene for the beginning of his chapter. 

“Owain,” Inigo said breathlessly. He was clutching his cap and diploma in the same hand. His white hair looked disheveled. He was wearing an unflattering gold gown, but they both were. Owain still thought his skin glowed and his eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “My parents are going to be looking for me. So are yours.” 

“This won’t take long, trust me,” Owain said. He was grinning. His heart was pumping heat through his body and he felt like if he jumped he would soar 50 feet into the air before coming back down. “There’s something of grave importance we need to discuss before we do anything else today. It can’t wait.” He took a deep breath. 

“High School might be over but… I don’t want this to be the end of our journey. There are still many adventures we have to go on together. So I want to ask you… To stay with me.” 

Inigo’s face moved through a quick range of emotions. First he widened his eyes in shock, then narrowed them in confusion, and finally landed on what seemed to be shame. “Owain… I’m…. I’m leaving. I’ve already made up my mind.” 

The way he said it, admittedly, hurt Owain. But he was determined to not let this hurdle get in his way and he sprung in the air to glide over it effortlessly by maintaining his optimistically bright grin. “If that’s the case then let me reword my proposal. Let me stay with you. Wherever you go, I will follow. Inigo, I want to start this new part of our life _together_. I…. I’m in love with you.” 

Again, emotion overtook Inigo like a storm. When his eyes started to water, Owain’s resolve finally crumbled. Was he in the wrong? Were his words and implications hurting Inigo somehow? 

Inigo pushed away from him and ran back into the crowd of graduates. He got a head start while Owain gathered up the pieces of his heart, not convinced it was entirely broken yet. It wasn’t a promising response, sure, but it wasn’t an outright rejection either. As long as there was hope, Owain knew how to harness it. He lunged into the crowd to give chase. 

Owain was unable to find either Inigo or his parents for the rest of the day. Eventually he ran into his own mother who pestered him about graduation parties and he was removed from the park rather forcefully. 

He tried not to let it bother him when every phone call and text he made to Inigo went ignored. He tried not to let it bother him a day later when he went to Inigo’s house and his parents said he had already left. He tried not to let it bother him when weeks later he was still getting a busy signal from Inigo’s phone and he had deleted his social media and it seemed as if he had just disappeared into thin air. Weeks turned into months and months turned into years. And when he finally admitted that it was bothering him, all he could do was let it go. 

\---- 

**10 Years Later**

The host of the office Christmas party changed every year. They rotated who was in charge, but due to employment turnover, the schedule was a little haphazard. Leo had, in his defense, managed to stave off Niles being in charge of the office party for as long as he could. There were always new employees to host it and, on one occasion, he was able to get himself to host it twice with just a year in between. Alas, the day had finally come. There were no more excuses and Niles was _relentless_. Apparently he had been sitting on a really good venue, biding his time to book it for all of his ‘darling co-workers and friends’. 

Owain should have known, honestly. He shouldn’t have come. But here he was, standing in front of Cyrkensia Gentleman’s Club. A strip club that, Niles informed them with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, had both male and female dancers. Someone for everyone. Merry Fuckin Christmas. 

“I think you need this more than anyone,” Niles hummed from just beside Owain. “You’ve been a real wet blanket lately. It’s bumming me out.” 

“I have not,” Owain lied. “How is this supposed to help me anyway?” 

Niles shrugged and gave him a knowing look out of the corner of his one good eye. He was also grinning. Owain shivered. Niles’ grin was always unnerving. “Get laid. Please.” The sudden press of his hand into Owain’s almost made the blonde leap out of his own skin, but he kept it cool and when Niles withdrew his hand, Owain noticed he had left a little token behind. He lifted it to his eyes. It was a couple waded up hundred dollar bills. “Do it for all of us.” 

To Niles’ credit, maybe Owain _had_ been a bit of a wet blanket lately. He was usually loud and peppy and kept everyone in high spirits. And lately he had not really been that person. He was a little homesick, he thought, that was all. Of course, he couldn’t say that out loud. He was an adventurer and adventurer’s didn’t get homesick. Still, it had been quite a few years since he left Ylisse for work. 

Regardless, he wasn’t certain that $200 at a strip club could help him. What could he even buy with it? Was that a lot of money at a strip club? He had been under the impression that single dollar bills were more valuable in these types of situations. Maybe it was meant to be for a larger purchase. Certainly it couldn’t buy him an illicit night with a stripper, and that seemed illegal anyway. Maybe a lap dance? Owain didn’t plan on having time for anything of that sort. He was just going to participate in the white elephant gift exchange and leave as fast as he could. 

The club was dark and smoky and very warm. Owain and his co-workers stripped off their winter gear as Niles hunted out the area he had reserved for the party. They were provided some drinks and cigars and Owain spent the whole first half hour avoiding looking at the stage as much as he could. He knew there were colored lights and three big poles and several dancers scattered around wearing not much at all, but he hadn’t taken in any of the sights in great detail. 

“Soo...” The drawl the crawled across Owain’s shoulder’s could only belong to Niles. “Are you scoping out the goods? Think you see someone you like?” 

“Um, not in particular. I didn’t realize I was under directive to be looking.” 

This did not deter his devious coworker. Niles chuckled and then asked, “Have you ever had a lap dance before? They’re pretty relaxing. No commitment. Not even any sex, so it’s completely safe for virgins.” 

“I’m not doing that,” Owain said firmly. “Any of it. You can take your money back if you wish.” 

Niles gave the pretense of pouting, though Owain knew he actually didn’t care as much as his expression said. His expression rarely reflected how he actually felt. “If you make me pick for you, I’m picking a dude.” 

Owain scoffed, but he didn’t actually have a good comeback for that. The absolute last thing he wanted was for Niles to figure out something personal about his sexuality or love life. Not that he wasn’t certain that he would be accepted in the office. He was pretty confident that, in particular, the man before him swung either way depending on the phase of the moon. It was simply a matter of pride. While most of Owain’s exploits were harrowing tales that needed to be shared with the masses, some were far more private. Niles simply smirked at Owain’s silence and returned his attention to the stage. 

About 20 minutes went by. The pile of gifts sat untouched in the middle of the table. It seemed like almost everyone in the group had forgotten what they were even there for. Drinks were being passed around and minds were starting to loosen up. Everyone was trying to dig humor out of the situation Niles had landed them in. Everyone except Owain, who was still stone cold sober. He wasn’t really a drinker. The few times he had imbibed didn’t end well and this seemed like one case in particular he wanted to keep his wits about him. 

It wasn’t enough apparently, because before Owain could sense the oncoming storm, he was suddenly nose deep in a stranger’s bare ass. 

Niles was nothing if not the most cunning person Owain had ever met. How he had managed to bribe and then sneak a stripper into Owain’s personal bubble without him noticing until it was too late was completely beyond comprehension. But he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. 

While he tried to form a plan of escape, the owner of the ass continued to wave it directly in front of his face. There was only a flimsy pink g-string separating him from the inside of another person. Owain woefully noticed in that moment as well that Niles had kept his promise. The dancer was definitely male. 

It was, admittedly, a nice ass. And it swayed to the music as hands he couldn’t see gripped his thighs firmly and Owain could feel a wildfire spread through his body. 

The ass dropped from his face finally and Owain took in a deep breath, realizing for the first time that he had been holding it in. The dancer landed in his lap and that was when things got incredibly interesting. 

It was a _really nice_ ass, Owain thought as it grinded down into his lap. It was round and clenched tight but still had a little bit of fat. Just enough to pinch. Not that Owain was going to pinch it. His hands, though trembling, were locked against the arms of the chair. 

Now that the dancer was sitting down, Owain had a good look at some other parts of him. Namely his back. He was lithe but had little hips that pushed into Owain sensually. He wasn’t just a skinny weed. The dancer’s biceps looked firm and his shoulder blades powerful as they moved under his soft, tanned skin. He wasn’t wearing anything except the g-string and a couple of tight gold bands on his upper arms. Out of everything there was to gawk at, however, Owain was especially drawn to his hair. It was pure white, like freshly fallen snow, and looked just as soft. Just as his hand, which had somehow freed itself from the gripping horror, was about to touch it, the face of the dancer turned toward him and Owain froze. 

He suddenly couldn’t hear anything except his own heartbeat drumming loudly in his ears. The music and the soft chattering all died away. He struggled to take in breath. His mind was racing but not thinking much at all. 

Looking at him with a half-lidded sensual gaze was a face he hadn’t seen in a decade. Owain didn’t have to double take to know that the almost entirely naked man sitting on his groin was Inigo. And he couldn’t say a word about it either. 

Inigo must not have made the same realization that Owain did. Maybe he was drunk. Sometimes customers would buy the dancers shots, right? Maybe he just wasn’t looking directly into Owains face. In fact, he seemed to be focusing on the blonde’s jaw. His lips maybe? Was Inigo going to kiss him? 

Of all his muscular changes, Owain thought that Inigo’s thighs were the best. He thought this as one of them lifted up over his lap so that the dancer could twist his body to face Owain. It was thick and firm and strong looking. He could probably burst a watermelon between his legs. 

Owain was getting distracted, but to his credit there was a lot to be distracted by. Inigo had… _changed_. He tried to think about the last time they had seen each other, tried to summon back the feelings he had after their graduation ceremony. Maybe if he started a conversation, maybe if he could make Inigo look him in the eyes, he could end this horrible situation and get some closure as a bonus. But a thin finger ran along his collarbone and, for maybe the first time ever, Owain forgot how to speak. 

Inigo was now straddling Owain and the blonde noticed without even looking that their groins were smashed together. At least Owain was wearing jeans. Inigo’s pink g-string was not only thin, but barely containing his bulge. The rest of Inigo was completely bare, basically giving Owain permission (maybe even asking him) to ogle his muscular torso. He was still thin, even from the front, but that was merely how his abs packed themselves. He was almost completely hairless. In fact, Owain only managed to spot a sliver of a happy trail leading from his belly button down to his- 

Inigo jerked his body forward and Owain almost jumped out of his skin. He was just dancing to the beat of the music, though, which is how Owain realized his hearing had started working again. He pulsed his body five times into Owain’s lap. It was getting hard to breathe. Then he lifted up again and twisted around so he could push his butt up Owain’s chest. Slowly Inigo started to slide off and, before Owain could gather himself, he was gone. 

All in all, the lap dance hadn’t lasted as long as it felt. Niles’ money didn’t go very far in this particular club. All the strippers were of very high caliber and cost a LOT of money for even a simple private show. 

Owain would figure that all out later though. For now, he rounded on his mischievous co-worker, his blood aching with fury. Niles, who saw him coming from several feet away, just winked and directed everyone to the white elephant. He knew that Owain couldn’t keep a grudge. In the gift exchange Owain got a crumpled up expired coupon for buy 1 get 1 free delivery pizza and decided it was time to call it a night. 

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride home?” Niles slurred after draping one arm over Owain’s shoulders. He was promptly shoved aside. 

“I can manage on my own, thank you,” the blonde said, trying to bite back his irritation. “But you look like you might need one.” 

“I got an uber,” Niles informed him. “I’m willing to share though. If, you know, that dance was simply not enough and you need a little more.” 

His voice was oozing and it made Owain’s soul feel sticky. He backed away toward the parking lot where he knew his car was. “I’ll pass on that one, friend. See you on monday.” Niles shrugged and headed toward the uber. Owain could tell by the direction they headed down the street that it was not the end of that cumbersome man’s night. 

Owain walked around the building to find his car and instead found Inigo in only a tshirt and some sweatpants. It was below freezing outside and getting colder in the darkness. He hadn’t noticed Owain yet though, so the blonde hurried over to him and, rather unceremoniously, dropped his coat over the stripper’s shoulders. 

“Ack!” Inigo yelped as he whirled around to face Owain. 

“Whoa! Sorry!” the blonde shouted, holding up his hands defensively when it looked, for a moment, like Inigo might punch him. “You just looked cold! I thought you might need that!” 

Inigo sized up Owain and paled. At first, Owain thought he had been finally recognized but soon found out it was not in the way he wanted to be. 

“Didn’t I just… Give you a dance?” 

Owain flushed. “Yes.” Inigo started to walk quickly in the other direction and Owain had to dash in front of him to slow him down. He didn’t want to grab him in any way. That seemed like The Wrong Thing to do. “Wait, I’m sorry, my friend bought me that dance.” 

“You have a good friend,” Inigo said flatly. “If you’ll excuse me now, I have a freezing cold apartment to get to. Thanks for the coat.” 

Owain jumped in front of him again when he tried to take a step forward. “Your apartment is cold?” 

“It’s none of your business. I’m sorry I said anything. Please move.” 

“You’re going to freeze to death tonight. There’s an arctic chill coming through.” 

Inigo bit his lip but then shook his head as if casting away his fears. “There’s a 24-hour walmart down the street. I’ll survive.” 

“Wait. What if you came home with me?” 

Inigo’s eyes went wide but still they refused to meet Owain’s own. They looked at his chin, his chest, the ground. Literally anywhere but directly into his face as if seeing his ‘clients’ as real people would ruin him. “That will cost you extra.” 

“No, I mean, I don’t, ugh, fine.” Owain dug the wads of Niles’ cash out of his pocket and shoved it all into Inigo’s hands. “Is that enough? I don’t want to… buy your services or anything like that, but I do want to keep you warm. We don’t have to do anything, but please come home with me.” He tried to sound as sincere as possible. 

Inigo looked at the wads of cash then silently glanced around the parking lot. “Which one is yours?” 

They had to sit in the car for a minute while the heater spat out cold air. Owain tried to look anywhere but at his passenger. He hadn’t said anything about it. Did he _really_ not recognize Owain? Not even at all? It made his heart hurt a little. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Inigo asked in a quiet voice after a while. 

Owain chuckled. “I’m never cold. The blood coursing through my veins is ancient and boils with the glory of my ancestors.” 

He could feel Inigo’s eyes boring into the side of his face now and realized how weird that might have sounded. Especially without the knowledge that they weren’t strangers. He probably still thought Owain was just a weirdo paying him to sleep in his house. In that context maybe Owain’s diction was a little serial killer-ish? He pushed those thoughts in the back of his mind quickly and thrust the car into drive. This was all for Inigo’s well being, he told himself as they sped down the street before the dancer could change his mind. 

\---- 

“Are you hungry? I’m not much of a cook but I can order us pizza,” Owain said as they entered his small but warm apartment. Inigo didn’t take off the coat to make himself comfortable even at Owain’s request. “I just got a coupon, maybe I can convince them to let me use it. What kind do you prefer?” 

Inigo didn’t answer. He seemed too absorbed by something on Owain’s bookshelf. It didn’t particularly matter. Owain knew what he liked anyway. He went into the little kitchen to retrieve the delivery pizza phone number on his fridge. 

Pizza ordered, he hung up the phone, threw the useless coupon in the trash and decided to clean up a little. It calmed his nerves and he figured if he gave Inigo some space he would really believe that he had no intentions to ‘buy’ him for the night. 

When he did finally return to the living room, Inigo was sitting on his couch, still with the coat on. And with his last high school yearbook open in his lap. Inigo’s long finger, the same one that had traced Owain’s collarbone a little a over an hour ago, traced his own younger face now on the page. 

“That thing you said in the car about your blood boiling. I thought it was you,” he said. Owain stopped just in front of the couch because, for some reason, he could feel that the air was very heavy. As if realizing that Owain was _not_ a stranger was the least preferable scenario. “You changed your hair. It used to be dark. I didn’t recognize you in the club.” 

“You’ve changed too,” Owain said, maybe too quickly. “You’ve been working out. And I still remembered you.” 

Inigo blushed, but didn’t meet the blonde’s fierce eye contact. “I’m a stripper. This,” he gestured to his body with one hand. “Is normal. But you have changed too much. Not just your hair... You’re not as tan as you used to be?” 

“The sun in Nohr isn’t quite what it was in Ylisse, is it?” Owain said softly. 

Inigo looked up and Owain noticed that his eyes looked a little misty. “I feel like… I need to go.” He set the book down and stood up. 

Owain almost jumped. “What? Why? 

“I never wanted anyone from Ylisse to see me like this,” Inigo said hurriedly. “Let alone…” His face flushed as if he just realized something. “Oh shit, we-” 

A knock at the door cut him off. Both of the men froze like deer caught in headlights. Then Owain coughed. “That, uh, might be the pizza.” 

It was. Owain and the deliverer played a back and forth game of rummaging. Into the red sack for the hot cardboard boxes and into the pockets for the paper money that would pay for them. The smell of warm pizza filled the apartment and Owain tipped the guy very well. It was the holiday season after all. 

All this happened with tension still lingering beyond them in the living room, unbeknownst to the innocent deliverer. When the exchange was finished and the door was shut, Owain took in a deep breath and prepared his argument. He didn’t quite know what that argument was, but he needed to make it. Inigo couldn’t leave for reasons related to the weather and also the past. He turned around. 

The living room was empty. His yearbook sat on the couch with a couple of crumpled up hundred dollar bills laying on it. Down the hallway the window that led out to the fire escape was open and letting in a cold draft. Inigo, and the coat, were gone. 

\--- 

Owain went to Walmart that night. It was a little more crowded than one would expect of a walmart at one in the morning, but it was almost Christmas. Mostly men were mulling around, looking for things they could sneak past their children and wives in the night. Owain didn’t purchase a single thing. He wandered the superstore twice around before deciding that Inigo had revised his earlier plan and wasn’t here. 

It was hard enough as it was for Owain to give up on anything, but this was a whole new game. The thought of Inigo curled up in a (he imagined) grimey, rat infested, dumpy apartment somewhere in this massive city, freezing to death in nothing but a coat and sweatpants plagued him for the rest of the night. But there wasn’t anything he could do, was there? Nohr was huge, Inigo could live anywhere. The only thing Owain could do was go to Cyrkensia again to make sure he was alright. He went home and laid awake in his bed until the sun started to filter in through his window and he knew that natural warmth was spreading throughout the city. 

At 4:30pm he woke up, a whole hour and a half before Cyrkensia Gentleman’s Club opened. He ate, took a long shower, put on fresh clothes and grabbed the discarded hundred dollar bills still laying on his couch before heading out. 

It was appropriately dark outside, despite how early in the evening it was. When Owain showed up, the club was still nearly empty. The patrons that were there early were mostly crowded around the bar, fueling up for the night. 

Owain easily scanned every face in the lobby and didn’t find the dancer he was looking for. He tried not to let panic take over. The night was young. There was only one dancer on the stage so far and no one even seemed that interested. If Inigo was here, he was probably still getting ready. And if he wasn’t, there was a chance he wasn’t due to be on the clock yet. So Owain ordered a beer that he had no intentions of drinking and found himself a table out of the way. 

It was a long time before anything happened. Owain’s phone was almost dead from how long he had distracted himself with it. The air in the club got thicker with every new body that walked in through the door and now it was almost to the level of stifling hot it had been the previous night. And he was restless. It wasn’t like Owain to sit still for such a long period of time. He was determined to see Inigo, sure, but his leg was starting to cramp and all he could do was wiggle it nervously while occasionally glancing up at the stage full of scantily clad strangers. 

It happened in the middle of a particularly difficult level of angry birds. (Owain had just downloaded it thirty minutes ago. He was already addicted to the splendor in helping these humble feathered citizens protect their families from the evil green invaders.) The music shifted and a new spotlight lit the stage. Owain, a creature of habit at this point, glanced up to see what the ‘fuss’ was about. He almost looked back at his phone (again, habit), but stole a double take. 

Inigo was wearing barely any more clothing than he had been the night before. Two long, sheer white ribbons of fabric were connected between a gold collar he wore and gold bangles on either arm. His thong was white this time and came with a thin gold belt that set right on his hips. Two more sheer pieces of white fabric connected to the belt and two gold bands he had around his ankles. They were baggy on either side of him but didn’t detract from his strong legs. He was barefoot. Nestled in his soft hair was a gold hair band to top it all off. 

He was stunning, Owain thought as he tried and failed a couple of times to swallow a dry lump growing in his throat. If he had told himself ten years ago that he would one day be able to see his high school crush dressed in such elegant and revealing clothing he wouldn’t have believed it. If he had gone on to describe what Inigo did next, he would have slapped himself. 

There were three poles on the main stage. Up until now, only the front one had been occupied. As the night was wearing on, they must have decided that they needed more entertainment. Inigo grabbed an unoccupied pole in one hand and spun around it a couple of times when he reached it. 

The music was gentle, but sensual with the occasional hit of a bass. Inigo moved slowly with it as he inspected the pole from every angle. After a quick twirl, his back was pressed up to it and he gyrated his hips a little, running the pole up the length of his spine. Then he dropped his ass and went all the way to the floor in a slow, shaking squat as the music leveled out. He spread his knees a couple of times to show off the bulge in his thong and then sprung back to his feet. This time he turned around to face the pole. Gripping it in both of his hands, Inigo pushed his legs and his ass out as far away as possible and swayed gently before, without warning, falling down into a perfect split. 

Owain almost choked on his own spit. Men could do that?! Didn’t it hurt?! He felt a vague phantom soreness in his own crotch sympathetically, but it didn’t seem to slow Inigo down at all. 

Inigo brought his legs under him and gracefully flip himself onto his head to do the splits again, only this time upside down. After a moment's pause to show he could hold it, one knee hooked around the pole and he reached between his legs to grab it with both hands. Then, with almost no effort involved, Inigo started to lift himself off of the floor and up the pole. 

He spun a couple of times with one leg stuck straight out. Then, using only leg strength and his two hands on the pole, Inigo lifted himself into an upright sitting position. From here, he was able to scale the pole almost all the way to the ceiling. He twisted one ankle around the pole and continued to spin slowly with the music, pausing in different gravity defying positions. He held on with only his hands, spreading his entire lower half out and away from the pole. He would occasionally snake one leg around the it and fold himself upside down as he spun. 

His thighs and biceps rippled with use under the sheer fabric. His skin glistened with sweat in the heat of the room, but all it did was make him sparkle under the lights. And the whole time, he maintained a look of neutral concentration. 

Owain found his body reacting to the dance similarly to how it had during the lap dance the night before. He was frozen in place, wide-eyed and gawking at his childhood friend’s new prowess and sensuality. Of course, there was a new added element of awe as well. The lapdance had been hypnotic but this dance was downright inspiring. Since when could Inigo bend like that? Since when did the human body have the ability to float like that? Owain had never been so simultaneously turned on and impressed at the same time in his life. 

The bass in the music suddenly dropped and so did Inigo. Half the length of the pole, he plummeted with one leg stretched far away from him, unmoving the whole time. It startled Owain but Inigo made it look so controlled. When he was level with the ground again he flipped up and fell into another fluid split before letting go of the pole and pulling himself to his feet. He strutted off the stage, switching out with another male dancer (that was even more scantily clad in just a loin cloth) and Owain was just helpless to watch him go. 

Owain wasn’t sure where to go from here. He thought about leaving the club. He had confirmed (in somewhat amazing detail) that Inigo was alive and well. Wasn’t that what he had come to do? But he still felt unsettled. The conversation the night before hadn’t really ended the way he wanted, which was to say, it hadn’t really ended at all. If Owain could just pry out the rejection Inigo had been denying him for ten years, he was sure he could handle it. 

He was so wrapped up in his turmoil over this, he almost didn’t see Inigo reemerge a moment later to begin walking the floor. Owain decided to embrace the opportunity and peeled himself out of his chair. 

A man who looked like he hadn’t showered in a few days was trying to shove a couple of bills into Inigo’s belt as the dancer hovered just an inch above his lap. When he finally succeeded, he gave Inigo’s bare ass a hearty slap and the sound made Owain visibly flinch. Inigo just grinned, though, and bore down on his customer one more time before getting up. He gathered a couple of empty beer mugs and twisted around until he was face to face with Owain who was standing between him and the bar. 

The slap from a stranger didn’t startle Inigo, but this sure did. He yelped instinctively and fumbled with a glass that he didn’t quite have a good enough grip on yet. Owain reached out to help him, but just ended up cradling his hand instead. They froze and looked at each other and for a moment everything seemed to be a little bit normal. For just a split second, Inigo wasn’t an untouchable (or perhaps _too_ touchable) stripper, he was just Inigo again. He was easily startled and almost broke a cup. Owain felt comfortable in that moment. And he certainly felt comfortable feeling Inigo’s warm skin in his palm. 

The moment was over too soon with Inigo jerking out of his grip and settling into a glare. “Excuse me,” he said flatly, pushing passed Owain to head toward the bar. 

Owain effortlessly gave chase. “Inigo, we should talk.” 

“I’m at work right now,” the dancer said as he set the glasses down for the bartender. 

“I can wait until you’re off work,” Owain pleaded. 

Inigo huffed a sigh and whirled to face him. His eyes were narrowed in frustration, but his whole face was pink. “Can’t you see this is embarrassing for me? Please just leave and forget you ever saw me here.” 

Owain wanted to fight back, but some of the patrons at the bar and the bartender were starting to eye their exchange suspiciously. He was thinking quickly and probably not too clearly as he rummaged in his pockets and pulled out the crumpled hundreds (distantly wondering how many times Niles’ money would be exchanged between the two of them before it finally settled on a winner). “I can buy you again,” he reasoned. “You can make money while you talk to me. Please, just… Do this much?” 

Inigo looked at the money and then back up at Owain with one eyebrow cocked. “You want me to dance for you again?” 

Owain gulped. “Sure. If it means we get some time.” 

Inigo looked around, like he was desperately trying to find an excuse out of this. His eyes landed on the bartender. He was a young man, but tall, and he gave Inigo a knowing glance that clearly said, ‘If you need an out I can give you one’. Inigo certainly seemed to consider it but then his fist clenched around the money and he sighed. “I can’t turn down a customer.” He grabbed the bills and tucked them in his belt alongside all the other tips he had accumulated so far that night. For how early it was, it was quite a lot of money. “Go sit down and I’ll be over in a minute with a fresh drink for you.” 

The bartender fixed Owain with an analytical look as Inigo ran away. His eyes were a bright red color and his ears were pointed, almost like an elf’s. He could have been intimidating if not for the soft baby face holding all of his rough edges together. Owain knew there was no chance of being treated in a friendly manner after this man’s co-worker had responded so negatively toward him, but he didn’t want to upset anyone so he tried to smile amicably and then shuffled away from the bar. It felt a little bit like a walk of shame so Owain picked the nearest empty and sort of isolated table he could find and plopped down in his chair. 

His hands were starting to tremble again and Owain wondered if he should distract them. But as much as he would like to focus on malcontented fowl and their quest for peace, his brain was firing off too many consuming thoughts. Owain felt trapped in them. He hadn’t felt this anxious about something in years. 

The soft thud of a glass connecting with the wooden table was what finally freed him. He jolted at the invasive sound and looked up into Inigo’s half lidded gaze. It was a familiar gaze. One he had just seen the night before, guarded and not as soft as it could be hiding under a thin veil of fabricated arousal. In its own way, it was captivating. Owain couldn’t peel his eyes away for even a moment to see what sort of ‘fresh drink’ Inigo had brought him. 

Even in shades of humiliation, irritation and hesitation, Inigo was beautiful. His lashes were long, his blue irises glimmered. Glitter dusted his cheeks, his lips were plump and pink. His jaw was dark from a not-too-recent shave that was smothered under some sort of foundation for the stage. His eyebrows were thick and white against his sepia skin. Even in the darkness of Nohr he had maintained a gorgeous level of melanin. He looked soft and Owain felt his hand (his pesky hand) twitch at the need to caress his cheek. 

It was ridiculous. Owain needed to keep his urges under control because they had to talk. Assumptions would get him nowhere. He just needed to talk to his friend. 

It appeared as though Inigo disagreed. 

He started the show by clamping his hands over Owain’s wrists, effectively tying them to the chair. Not that the blonde had any plans to leave. Still, his heart rammed hard in his chest. His mouth stuttered open as he struggled with the words to begin that conversation he wanted. 

Before even a croak could escape his throat, Inigo leaned in, lips parted, and Owain felt ice in his veins. Inigo’s mouth landed beside his ear and he didn’t say a word at first. He just released a slow, soft gust of air that tickled Owain’s hairline and planted goosebumps all over his body. Owain gulped and felt a rock lodge in his throat. Inigo, clearly, was not going to make this easy. The dancer pulled away and momentarily stole all of the heat that Owain hadn’t even noticed resting between them. It made him shiver, but also gave him blessed room to think for a moment. 

He took a deep breath and prepared his first sentence which mainly revolved around the sentiment ‘What happened ten years ago?’. He released a breathy “Wha-” and there was a bulge in his face to swallow the rest of the word and every one after. Owain went cross eyed, unintentionally focusing on it. There was no hair in his bikini line, though Owain got a good look at that happy trail again. It really blended in with the white ribbon aesthetic. Owain tried his hand at swallowing that rock again. 

“Wh-What… Um, ten years…” He persevered, trying to rip his concentration away from the bulge as it gyrated inches from his nose. Inigo had one leg up on the arm of the chair. Owain could almost see the side of his ballsack but it all smelled so clean and his thigh, which jiggled a little with his movement, looked so smooth. Owain lost his original train of thought in the soft ripples of skin so he tried another. He cleared his throat. “Last night. What happened last night? Where did you go?” 

Inigo didn’t respond. Slowly, he raked his hands down the front of Owain’s thin shirt and the blonde was positive there was no way he couldn’t feel his heartbeat. He tried to worry about whether or not Inigo had heard his words instead of the jolt of pleasure that shot down his stomach when Inigo accidentally (?) brush past one of his nipples. 

“L-Last night,” he squeaked, trying again, nothing if not persistent. Inigo cut him off by dropping his propped leg down. He snuck it, instead, underneath the armrest behind Owain, then repeated the motion with his other leg, grabbing Owain’s shoulders for balance. Before the blonde could emotionally respond, Inigo was sitting in his lap, slowly grinding his hips down and up so that they rubbed together every few seconds. Owain’s brain was on fire now and it melted at the sensation. It was delightful agony. 

Inigo leaned down, holding them close so he could whisper right into Owain’s ear, “I heard you.” Owain had always loved how beautiful Inigo's voice was, but this came out as almost a growl. He tried to picture something like his mother’s scolding face in a desperate attempt to keep his arousal in check. 

“Then… Where? And why?” he squeaked. His hand was trembling as it gripped the armrest tightly. His whole body was revolting against his mind’s decision to pursue conversation. 

Inigo leaned back and his whole body, from his chest to his hips, rippled like a wave into Owain. “I went to Denny’s,” he said loud enough to be heard over the music but without any other emotion to contradict the language of his dance. “It’s 24 hours and the waitress lets me hang out if I at least buy a coffee and don’t bother her much.” 

“S-So you’re heat is still-” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

Inigo pulled his body up and fixated Owain with a fierce gaze. “That’s just how things are now. It’s none of your business.” 

He stood up, unhooking his legs from behind Owain and for a second the blonde thought the dance was over. But Inigo didn’t walk away. He simply turned his back on Owain and pushed that beautiful, firm ass into his lap. Owain bit his lip, trying to suppress the feelings from the night before in regards to this very particular aspect of Inigo’s body. But with it bobbing rhythmically above him, his hand had other ideas. 

The second his fingertips grabbed the skin of Inigo’s thigh right below the curvature of his ass, Inigo smacked him away. “The merchandise touches you, not the other way around.” 

Owain, ashamed and confused, grabbed his trembling floating hand as if it were working on its own agenda and needed to be apprehended. “I’m sorry. My… My hand… It’s twitching… I can’t tame it!” 

Owain thought he saw Inigo roll his eyes as he turned away again. He thought briefly of the man he had seen slap Inigo’s ass earlier and the smirk it had elicited. Then he immediately dismissed the comparison. If Inigo didn’t like it now then that was that, regardless of how he treated other customers or how much Owain had paid him. He was here on a mission anyway, and exactly zero of it involved objectifying his childhood best friend. 

“Inigo,” Owain started bravely, clenching his twitching hand into a fist on the arm rest and focusing on a harmless patch of skin in the middle of Inigo’s back. “I don’t want you to feel bad about your job. God’s know you’re good at it. That’s not the problem. But if you can’t afford to pay your heating bill… I’m worried about your health and…” Owain trailed off and barely noticed the gyrating had slowed. “I miss you.” 

Inigo’s dance stalled, then with one final roll of his hips (that made Owain squeak involuntarily) he stood and said over his shoulder. “Your time isn’t up, but there are other customers I have to see tonight. My shift ends at 2. I’ll go to Denny’s again. It’s open to everyone, you know.” 

Owain couldn’t fully register the invite until Inigo had sauntered away. His perfect butt swayed hauntingly as he walked. Then the hypnotism was gone and Owain looked at the time on his phone. Three hours. He looked around the stuffy, loud club and wondered how long he could loiter at Denny’s before they kicked him out. 

\---- 

Owain was at Denny’s for about an hour before Inigo’ showed up. He ordered as much food as he thought he could eat and then a little extra so that he could munch slowly in an effort to not draw too much suspicion from the staff. He just had to make eating last long enough for his friend to arrive. It felt a little bit like an undercover operation. It was the most thrilled he had felt in awhile, even if it was buried under a mountain of apprehension. He dug through that mountain and clung to the thrill instead. 

The shy, pink haired waitress was finally starting to glance nervously in Owain’s direction when 2:15 rolled around. He had moved pancake bits from one end of the plate to the other several times and she had already asked him once if he wanted his check, which he refused. He was in the middle of taking a long, slow swig of milk when Inigo finally entered the restaurant. 

Owain felt his heart leap into his throat when they locked eyes. He choked a little on the milk. It had been ten years and no matter how many times he had seen Inigo in the past two days, he was still floored by just how striking the dancer was. Whether he was revealing most inches of his body to the fresh air or post work dressed down in the overly large jacket he had given him and skinny jeans, Owain couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he had found him. 

He greeted the waitress that seemed relieved at his arrival and started to walk towards Owain’s booth. Owain grinned, propelled into excited anticipation by the thrumming of his heart. He started to think about how to start the conversation again, but Inigo walked right past him and sat in the adjacent booth instead so that they were back to back. They couldn’t see each other. 

The waitress bustled over and, on a first name basis with Inigo, happily got his order of nothing more than a cup of coffee. Owain must have been glowering because on her way back to the kitchen she paused at his table. “Um, sir, if you’re finished with that plate now, I can take it.” 

“Ah, right. Pardon my intrusion. I am simply trying to ensure that my body has obtained all of the essential nutrients it can from this powerful breakfast of champions.” With a flourish, he flipped a bite of pancake into his mouth. “A warrior’s body such as my own cannot simply be stuffed and rushed! Savoring the meal is all part of the adventure of it.” 

The waitress didn’t seem to know whether to grin or blush, so she did both. “Well, please let me know if I can get you anything.” As she walked away, Owain became acutely aware of the fact that Inigo was chuckling behind him. 

Owain wondered if he should move. Should he sit across from Inigo? Turn to look at him? Acknowledge him at all? Owain talked with his hands a lot; what if Inigo not being able to see him hurt his ability to express himself? 

“I just wanted to dance,” Inigo’s soft voice cut through. Owain’s frantic thoughts settled on his shoulders and ceased their random chatter. “That was all I could think about when we graduated. I wanted to get out of Ylisse and dance. And like a week before, I was scouted by a talent agency from Nohr. They were going to put me on the right track to make my dreams come true and I was going to be able to travel and it was going to be fantastic. 

“Then you… You confessed to me and I… I panicked. This job, I was going to travel a lot and… It didn’t seem fair so I ran. I finished out the day with my parents and used all of my graduation money and savings to get here. I thought if I left without a word it would be easier. I was stupid. I thought part of being a ‘responsible adult’ was putting work before relationships. 

“Obviously it didn’t work out the way I planned… The job I mean. I got here and it was all a scam.” 

Owain bit his lip. He had a sinking suspicion he knew where this was going but didn’t want to interrupt what almost felt like a very private moment for Inigo. They weren’t facing each other, so it was almost as if the only reason Inigo could even manage to tell this story was on the illusion that he was talking to himself. Owain was ready though, for a story of heartbreak. 

“They took all my money and gave me nothing but empty promises. But I had made such a big deal about it, I was humiliated. I couldn’t bring myself to crawl back to my parents after all the ‘I’m going to support myself and live on my own from here on out’ nonsense. So I started looking for other work just to survive. And I found Cyrkensia.” 

Owain’s brain stalled. A connection was missing from the story he had been preparing to hear. His voice croaked as he managed, “You mean the stripping thing wasn’t… part of the scam?” 

At first, Inigo didn’t respond. Owain couldn’t see his face and it took every inch of willpower (of which Owain had a lot, so every inch of a small army of willpower) to stop him from turning to see what emotions this question had elicited. Inigo’s confused tone gave him no definite tips either. “Uh, no? No, the stripping is completely separate. I saw a want ad. It was embarrassing at first, but, uh, I’m very good at it. So as long as I don’t look too closely at the people watching me, it’s really fun.” 

Pieces were starting to click together. They were finding each other amongst all of the fog in Owain’s mind and everything was starting to feel a lot less chaotic. The first one was the issue that had plagued him since he first recognized Inigo. He had gone a whole lap dance without recognizing Owain? It was probably due to this stage fright prevention technique. 

“The club saved me.” A little sigh of relief escaped with the sentence. “The tips are pretty tremendous. Without it, I’d be out on the streets. Before the club, I _was_ out on the streets. I hopped from home to home for a few years when I first got here and sometimes I had to sleep in shelters.” 

One last time, Owain imagined Inigo’s dingy lifestyle being forced upon him. He imagined blackmail and destitution and sex slavery and all of the terrible things he had pictured since finding Inigo at the strip club. And then, just like that, it was all gone. Inigo wasn’t pressured into this role. Sure, maybe circumstances hadn’t afforded many options. But he was doing a job that he had fun with and was good at. Isn’t that what everyone wanted? Owain was the one who had assumed and dramatized the whole situation out of proportion. 

“The only thing about it is… I can’t go home right now. I mean, I’m grateful for the job. But if anyone from home knew… If my _mother_ saw how I used her dancing techniques… I would…” There was a little choke as the emotions welled up in Inigo and got lodged in his throat. 

“I think,” he started again after a moment. His voice was quieter now. “That’s why I was so… freaked out when I saw the yearbook. I had it in my head for so long that no one from home could know about me. And suddenly, after years… There you were…” 

“You didn’t know it was me until the yearbook,” Owain said and his voice was still a croak. He hadn’t particularly meant to say anything this time. It just popped out, broke through all of his mental barriers with the help of his overwhelming desire to know to what extent Inigo had cut the memory of him out so that he hadn’t even recognized Owain in such an intimate space. 

Inigo was quiet. So quiet for a second Owain wondered if he was even still there sitting behind him, back to back in the booths. Owain pushed a piece of pancake through the cold syrup on his plate. He couldn’t help but feel like Inigo didn’t want him in his life anymore. At first Owain had thought it was such a success to reunite with his high school crush. But it had been ten years. It was a long time. Inigo had supplied him a reason for his initial disappearance and didn’t owe Owain anything more. He shouldn’t have asked. 

He glanced up from his plate and made eye contact with the pink haired waitress. He smiled weakly and she shuffled around looking for a check book. He watched her until his line of sight was blocked. 

Inigo had quietly moved from his booth to be across from Owain. It made the blonde’s heart pound in his chest. His eyebrows were pulled down in worry but his mouth was open as if he wanted Owain to read the words on his tongue so he wouldn’t have to speak them. 

“I-I… It’s hard to explain… what happened that night… I didn’t… _Not_ know it was you…” 

Inigo wasn’t meeting Owain’s gaze anymore but… At least he could see his face. See his blushing and his fidgeting with the coffee cup in his hands. He could see his soft white hair that looked freshly free of hair product as if he’d washed it before he came. His clean skin and strong jaw… 

“This is… more than the dancing, this is embarrassing but when I danced for you the first time you, uh… you _reminded_ me of you.” Owain just blinked. All of his reasoning was momentarily halted by this word maze Inigo had presented him with. “Uh, I mean,” Inigo cleared his throat. His cheeks and neck looked warm. “E-Every time I… give lap dances to men...I pretend it's you and that time I just thought ‘Wow I’m lucky this guy kinda looks like him’ and thought my imagination was running away with me.” 

“You… Think of me every time?” Owain asked, his voice going on without him. His brain had officially stopped processing this conversation. 

“Yeah, well, okay, this is incredibly embarrassing. I like my job and I’m good at it but the lap dances are… intimate and I would feel more comfortable if I did them for someone I…” 

Inigo stopped and after a pregnant moment rolled past, Owain figured he wasn’t going to start again. He had abandoned that train of speech, but Owain was sure if he adopted it he could hear what it had to say. 

“On graduation day,” the blonde began, quietly, slowly, as if trying to lure in a wounded animal so that he could rescue it. “I confessed my love for you. And you ran away and I didn’t see or hear from you for ten years.” 

Inigo looked him in the eyes and Owain did him the courtesy of holding the gaze. The dancer’s eyes were watering. This was taking a lot of courage and Owain wanted to respect that of him as much as he wanted answers. 

“I ran away from Ylisse. My parents, everything. My mom was sick to death and every week she still calls me to tell me she misses me. I put all of my money into a scam and now I’m a stripper. But out of all the shame that comes with that, my biggest regret… Is you.” 

Tears broke and one fell down Inigo’s soft face with a quickness, landing in the coffee below him. Owain reached across the table and laid a hand over the one gripping the handle of the mug. 

“What your answer?” 

Inigo sniffed. “Huh?” 

“My feelings. What is your answer?” 

“I thought that was clear. They were-” 

“No, are. What are they now?” 

Inigo looked at his coffee cup, at their touching hands and he grinned. It was a shy grin. It reminded Owain of summers running around in the Ylisse sunshine, laying on the roof and talking about other planets beyond theirs, forest adventures collecting what they found, playing video games, seeing friends, always goofing off together. It reminded Owain of the world he had given up on having. A world shared between just him and that soft smile. 

“Well,” he started slowly and Owain could feel his heart lift with the corners of his old friend’s mouth. “It’s been a very long time. At first I wasn’t super stoked, given the circumstances. But now, after giving the past couple days a second glance. I can say… I’m happy I ran into you again.” 

Owain hadn’t been expecting a confession, a surge of emotion then a kiss or anything to that effect. That’s not exactly what he wanted either. Inigo was right. It had been a _long_ time. What he had been expecting was a courteous ‘This whole situation is weird please never speak to me again’. So what he got was borderline mind boggling. To say his heart was excitedly running laps was a mild understatement. Owain’s soul felt as though it was dozing happily on the ninth cloud in the sky. 

Inigo flipped over his wrist to look at his watch and the simple action ripped the blonde from his delusions. He checked the time on his own phone. It was 3 am. How long had this conversation been? For the first time Owain felt exhaustion weigh on his shoulders. He hadn’t pushed the boundaries of his sleep schedule like this since college. 

“Inigo,” he started eagerly, not satisfied despite his fatigue. “Please don’t go home tonight. It’s too cold. You can sleep on my couch if you want. I promise not to try anything funny. I’m a man of my word!” 

Inigo blushed but waved his hands in the air as if dismissing the offer like a stench. “I know you are, but it’s fine. I was always planning on crashing at Felicia’s tonight.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the front counter where the pink haired waitress was eyeing them suspiciously, cleaning a glass. 

“What about in the future then? If your heat is turned off all winter-” 

“Oh, sorry, I think I mislead you,” Inigo cut off and he smiled sheepishly. “My heat isn’t cut off. I can afford my bills just great. It’s just broken. The apartment complex has been trying to replace it for a couple of days, but there’s been some technical difficulties on their end. It should be up and running tomorrow. I appreciate the concern, but I don’t actually need your help with this.” 

Owain must have looked like a kicked puppy at the rejection because Inigo quickly followed up with a hurried, “Do you want to exchange phone numbers?” Owain brightened again, so they did. An then it was time for him to go because a bill had been firmly planted in front of him and he was feeling droopy. 

He was so droopy, in fact, Inigo must have felt the need to escort him out to his car. It was one of five in the lightly powdered parking lot. Inigo tried to hand Owain back his jacket, but Owain fussed over the fact that all he had under it was a tshirt, so the dancer focused on the prospect of his sleepy drive home instead. 

“I swear on the blood of my ancestors, I will be safe,” Owain declared in a form slightly lack luster for him. Still, his ability to summon any amount of drama seemed to pacify Inigo. His shoulders settled and his grin tilted up an inch. “Now that I have found you once more, I will overcome any peril to ensure that I never lose you again.” 

Inigo blushed and fidgeted for only a moment before he surged forward. It happened so quickly, Owain pursed his lips on instinct. But he found a gentle hand under his jaw, tilting his gaze slightly to the side and a pair of feather light lips to his cheek. Inigo bounced off of him as quickly as he had bounced on leaving Owain to reach for the touched area in wonder. 

His mouth moved independently of his discordant thoughts when it said, “That’s not because I paid you earlier, right?” 

Inigo pushed out a chuckle and his shoulders bobbed on the mirth that rippled through him. Owain was so relieved to see this side of him. Not closed off or tensed up but relaxed and comfortable around his jokes. 

“Oh, please,” he started coyly. “You only paid me $200. Your time expired like an hour ago. I’m expensive, you know.” 

Owain smirked then swallowed against a lump he didn’t realize was there. “So then that was…” 

Inigo coughed into his fist, and probably also tried to conceal his blush behind it. His eyes darted away nervously. “Just don’t… Come back to Cyrkensia if you want to see me, okay? Call me instead. I want to see you some time when I’m not working.” 

Now Owain was once again his usual ball of sunshine. Albeit a tired ball of sunshine. He hopped into his car quickly, afraid that he would do his usual Owain Dark thing and carry on a moment too long if he was allowed. 

He watched Inigo in his rearview mirror as he hurried back into the restaurant. When his eyes flicked back to the road it was just in time to see a small white fluff hit his windshield. Owain looked up at the sky then flicked on his wipers when more white fluff followed. 

As Owain rolled home along the empty streets, his feelings swelled in the dim glow of the traffic lights and danced on the currents of soft snow that kissed the ground. And he decided that after almost a decade he’d finally found home in Nohr. 

\---- 

**3 Years Later**

Inigo had met some of these people before. He knew their names and faces and occasionally if they preferred summer or winter based on how they responded to his weather centric small talk. Two or three of the women at the party even considered him with fondness- a shift from hitting on women for their phone numbers to hitting on women for the sheer thrill of letting them know they had brightened his day with their existence would do that. Who knew ulterior motives were so damaging? 

Despite the merriment and friendliness crushing him from all sides, Inigo had never felt quite so scrutinized. And he was a _stripper_ for gods sake. 

Honestly it was a stand alone miracle that no one at the party had recognized him. Even aside from the fact that at least a third of them had been to the office party held at his club three years ago, he was sure some of them had been on their own since. And he was absolutely still dancing. Headlining, even, since his promotion six months ago. As it was, though, Inigo’s worrying was for naught. Everyone just seemed happier the further they got from that unmentionable night. 

This year’s Nohrian Enterprises office Christmas party, as it happened, was being held at a local hole-in-the-wall karaoke bar. The kitchen stayed open an extra hour for them (and they made the _best_ nachos in town), the bartenders were as generous with the alcohol content as the wealthy business men were with their tips, and no one had received an expired pizza coupon in the white elephant. 

Every other conversation Inigo found himself eavesdropping on was one singing the praises of this year’s host, Owain. _His_ Owain. They had been officially dating for a little over a year now. So though it was the second office Christmas party Inigo had ever been apart of, it was the first where he was a guest and not on the clock. And wearing something warmer than a g-string. In this case, a sweater. 

A gentle hand at the small of his back jolted Inigo from his silent fretting and he twisted his head to look up into large, excited green eyes. Owain was radiating with pride and… something else. Holiday cheer? Whatever it was, it melted his fears like summer brushing away snow and ice. Inigo’s life had been a never ending abyss of loneliness and regret three years ago. The miracle that his savior had finally come in the form of a boy he had loved in high school was not lost on him and he basked in it every day. 

Owain, still holding a steady hand to Inigo’s hips, leaned forward to whisper in his ear. His breath ghosted across Inigo’s flesh, making him prickle with faint desire. “I have to go make a speech. Will you be okay by yourself for a minute?” 

They had only been dating for a year, but Owain could already read Inigo so well. As if they had known each other their whole lives. And maybe part of it was because they had. “I’m fine,” Inigo reassured. “Though I’m not confident your speech will last less than ten minutes.” 

Owain was chuckling at his playful jab when the shadow of a person loomed over the two men. Inigo looked up into the single blue eyeball of a man he had met a few times since the night Owain had ambled back into his life. And who still gave him the willies. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Niles hummed. 

Inigo felt his skin crawl mildly at the thought, but Owain was less bothered. He placed a surprise kiss on Inigo’s cheek and said a quick, “See you in a bit,” before hurrying away. 

With no escape, the reluctant dancer turned towards his white-haired keeper. If anyone at this party was going to recognize Inigo through his thick woolen sweater it would be the mastermind behind the Cyrkensia office party. Inigo just had to keep him distracted. He had to pick up the reigns of the conversation before Niles did. He opened his mouth. 

“So how is Corrin doing?” 

He choked on the breath he had been inhaling. How was this guy so fast? He was so frustrated with his defeat he barely had time to feel shame for it. So instead he summoned an image of his co-worker, a bartender at Cyrkensia, Corrin. A lanky boy with unruly silver hair, red irises and round baby face with almost elven pointy ears. Inigo knew him well as the man who preferred to kick off his shoes in the breakroom and the cousin of Azura, the club owner. He wasn’t much of a dancer, like his cousin, but he was friendly and good hearted and therefore fairly popular in his own right. 

“He’s doing well,” Inigo responded courteously. “Azura is working with him on his first routine.” 

Niles hummed and Inigo wished he cared to unpack all of the emotions that hum carried. “So he’s going to start dancing soon? I’d like to see it. Shame. He told me I was not allowed to visit anymore if I wished to court him properly.” Inigo didn’t respond to Niles right away. He was too preoccupied with the mental image of Corrin, who was beautiful and intelligent and kind, curling up with this slimy, untrustful pervert. But then, he was also at times an unvirtuous, fickle flirt and Owain still chose him. 

His thoughts gave Niles enough time to sigh facetiously, brush some white bangs away from his one good eye and continue, “I’m pretty stealthy though. And rather impatient. Maybe I can sneak into the club after the party tonight and just take a quick look.” 

“Don’t do that,” Inigo snapped. “If you want the relationship to last, allow him space to keep the job and his feelings separate.” 

It was a minor outburst, delivered in a level and steady tone, but it seemed to catch Niles as off guard as it caught himself. 

When they ‘officially’ started dating, Inigo had _officially_ banned Owain from Cyrkensia Gentlemen's Club. Not that Owain had been a frequent customer. In fact, since that night at Denny’s, Owain hadn’t gone near the place except to give Inigo rides to and from work occasionally. And Inigo had been grateful. He was certain it was the reason they had managed to build a romantic relationship on the unsteady foundation that was 18 years of platonic friendship, followed by 10 years of no communication at all, followed by an awkward reunion and a socially unacceptable career path. 

Well, it was one of the reasons. Owain’s silly brand of charisma was the other. Inigo was flighty and Owain was his anchor. In a good way. He gave him stability and affection in a world where he was sure those things no longer existed. And even when Inigo was sure that continuing his job would be a deal breaker, Owain had done nothing but support him. All of Inigo’s insecurities melted in Owain’s arms. Then, just a month ago, he had invited his boyfriend to visit the club for the first time in three years so he could show off a new routine he had been working on. 

Inigo blushed under the weight of Niles’ gaze. This man had a distinctly powerful gravitational pull to him. “If you respect him, you’ll honor his wishes. After all, if he’s anything like me, it’s not like you’ll never get to see him dance.” Niles smirked devilishly and it made Inigo’s blush intensify. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Gotta say,” Niles hummed. “That is a _little_ more than I cared to know about Owain’s sex life. Still, I am truly glad that he found you. It would be nice if everyone could find a love like yours.” 

“It would,” Inigo agreed in a small voice. And he meant it. His relationship with Owain was like a fairytale. He could never have imagined that he would one day meet again with his teenage crush and it would go so well. He never imagined that he would grow to forgive fate for the hand it had dealt him after high school. Sure, he still felt guilty about leaving without a trace, but never at Owain’s suggestion. 

Inigo used to resolve himself to spending the rest of his life in Nohr. Now, he looked forward to it. 

His heart thrummed a little extra beat at the thought of ‘forever’ beside Owain, and as it did the man in question appeared on the bar’s little make shift stage and grabbed the microphone. 

Owain cleared his throat and the chatter of the party died down. Inigo turned away from Niles so he could get a better view of his boyfriend. He was still glowing a little with pride and… that extra bit. Inigo still couldn’t place it, though he wished it would come to him soon because he really liked how Owain wore it and he wanted to be able to duplicate it later. 

“Hail and well met, friends!” Owain’s voice boomed through the speakers. Several people in the front row flinched, so he grinned sheepishly and pulled the mic away from his mouth a bit. 

“I have faith that everyone is enjoying a grand evening!” There was a short but enthusiastic round of applause and Owain looked particularly proud of himself. His co-workers were responding perfectly on queue as he went on. “There has been no shortage of legendary performances. I know none of us will ever forget Charlotte’s rendition of ‘Single Ladies’. Or the hilarity that ensued during Keaton’s interpretation of ‘What Does the Fox Say’. Christmas is a time to make memories. And we have certainly made many here tonight.” 

There was a short pause in which Owain took a shaky breath. “There is one more memory I would like to create tonight. And I’m inviting all of you to be part of it. It’s a rather impressively important memory however, so I am going to need some help. Inigo?” At the sound of his name, Inigo went stiff. Once again, he could feel all eyes on him. Owain was stretching a hand down toward him. “Will you come up here please?” 

The bar was small, so their karaoke stage was just a step above the regular floor. It was barely big enough for two people to share with the microphone stand and a screen for lyrics and a couple towers of of speakers crowding it. Inigo surveyed the space then locked eyes with his eager boyfriend and shook his head. He hoped his shyness was _crystal_ clear. “All of your co-workers are here,” he hissed back. 

Owain removed the mic from his mouth and fixed Inigo with a bright grin. “Inigo, trust me. I’m not going to make you dance or anything.” 

After one more nervous glance around, Inigo took Owain’s hand if only to help steady himself around all of the equipment once he was on stage. For a moment everything was okay. Owain was looking fondly into Inigo’s eyes and Inigo was anchored by him. Then his scheming boyfriend broke their eye contact and half turned to the expectant crowd. Inigo, without his anchor, wavered in place under the pressure he felt from the audience. 

“Everybody knows my beloved Inigo, right? It was under the blessing of a Christmas miracle that we were united three years ago and I have never been so sure or thankful for something in my life.” He turned to face Inigo again and said into the microphone, his voice a low rumble, “I hope Christmas can grant me one more miracle.” 

With a confident smile, but shaky hands, Owain fixed the mic back into its stand. Then the most amazing thing happened. 

For a moment, all of the emotions in Inigo blacked out his senses and he couldn’t comprehend it. Owain was descending, no bending, no _kneeling_. He was lowering himself to the floor, propped up on one knee. And he had Inigo’s left hand in his right as his other one fished around in his blazer for something. A box, Inigo realized when it emerged. A small black box. 

By now Inigo knew what was happening and his heart was pounding and his eyes were watering and he forgot all about the audience and there was just Owain. Owain and a box. 

“Inigo… You’re my best friend and the love of my life. I know there were some challenging times but I don’t want you to think of this as atonement for the years we lost. They were just as important to our journey as anything going forward. It would make me the happiest man in the world if you let me stay with you for the rest of our lives.” With a quick flick of his thumb, the box popped open revealing a beautiful golden brand with a line of five small inlaid indigo sapphires in the center. “Will you marry me?” 

Just Owain and a box and a ring. And a question. 

Inigo was crying. Not profusely, but as his eyes continued to water a few stray tears broke away, shouting his wild emotions as they trailed down his cheek. It felt good to cry. It felt good to loosen the reigns on his heart. 

He nodded, of course, speechless and overwhelmed but in such a good way. Owain beamed and clumsily fit the gold band around Inigo’s ring finger. Inigo had about a second to admire the way it set on his hand before Owain was surging up from the ground, grasping his face in both hands and pulling Inigo in for a bruising kiss. 

Inigo’s thoughts were consumed with Owain and forever. He couldn’t help but wonder what he had done to deserve this. To deserve Owain. To deserve _forever_. Their bodies pressed tight together as they kissed between laughter and Owain thumbing a tear out of his way on Inigo’s face. Inigo subconsciously kept track of how the new ring caught in Owain’s hair as he ran his fingers through it. It was soft and warm and happy and Inigo completely forgot that they weren’t the only two people in the room. 

Until, off to the side of the stage and through the cheers, Inigo heard Niles hum, “You know, I introduced them.” Inigo smiled into Owain’s mouth. There would be plenty of time to set _that_ record straight later.


End file.
